The Spark and the Void
by Tadpole24
Summary: "It would seem more to me as though you were avoiding me." The difficulties Emma and Killian face now they have returned to Storybrooke. A sequel to The Thief and the Pirate. Captain Swan, picking up a week later.
1. Chapter 1

_Ahoy there shipmates, _

_So you remember that fic I wrote about a thief and a pirate? Well I thought it definitely needed a sequel…so here it is! _

_Things to note about this fic are that you will definitely need to have read The Thief and the Pirate and that this one takes a step into M territory, whereas its prequel never did. This is set about a week later and still follows the story of 'The Miller's Daughter' which means Tamara isn't evil etc :)_

_Feedback is greatly appreciated! And as always, you can find me on Tumblr (wonder24) and Twitter (tadpole24_). _

_Disclaimer: At this stage I would be content owning just Hook, but I don't own any part of this fantastic show. _

..:::..

The Spark and the Void

Chapter One

..:::..

It's been a crazy week. Emma wipes a hand across her forehead, the sweat from her brow beginning to get on her nerves. She leans down to pick up the chair she had been holding once again, "Where did you want this one?"

"Just over by the desk would be great, Em," Neal replies, gesturing towards the study.

She heaves the furniture into her arms, moving towards the room, noticing a mop of messy brown hair seated atop the desk, "Henry, why aren't you helping?"

He shrugs, "I was asked to sort things out in here."

Emma notices he's joining paperclips together in a chain and rolls her eyes, "Come on kid, I only agreed to help so I could spend the day with you here."

Henry jumps down from the desk and, making sure to keep eye contact with his mother, drags the chair from her arms to place it in the right spot, "Okay."

She smiles, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can take you out for dinner."

But Henry steps out from under her hold, his expression unsure, "Actually, I was thinking I'd stay here tonight. We've already got my bed set up and everything."

"Oh," she's taken aback but knows that Neal did move to Storybrooke to spend more time with his son, "Well, if that's okay with Neal."

He nods, "I already checked," then seeing the sadness that crosses her face, he adds, "Plus, I noticed you've been avoiding Hook this last week. I think you should see him," before running off to help his father unload a few suitcases.

Emma bows her head, she should know better than to underestimate the observation skills of her son. She hasn't been necessarily avoiding Killian this week, it's more that she has just had so many other things on her mind with Neal and Tamara moving to Storybrooke and the whole aftermath of Rumpelstiltskin's war on her family. But Henry is right, she _should_ see him. She wants to see him.

Double checking with Neal that it's okay that Henry stays the night, Emma grabs her coat, looping it over her arm, and heads for the docks. She remembers when she gets about halfway that she hasn't showered all day and she probably smells of dust and sweat. Casting a glance out at the Jolly Roger sitting in the bay, she reluctantly turns around and heads back towards her apartment to clean herself up.

From the helm of his ship, Killian Jones watches her go, a familiar disappointment sitting in his gut.

..:::..

"I've had a thought."

Regina has barely stepped inside Gold's shop and he is already throwing a proposition at her. She seats herself at his counter, watching as he waters a plant on the shelf behind him, "And what would that be?"

He spins on his heel, facing her with a menacing grin, "We need to eliminate Emma."

The doubts spark in Regina's mind immediately, "Henry will never believe I had nothing to do with that. I'll lose him forever."

"Ah, but you haven't even asked my plan, dearie."

The Queen cocks her head, listening, "What_ is_ your plan?"

He waves a hand in the air, "Why, a simple memory spell."

She shakes her head, "No. Henry will know."

"So negative. Let me finish." He leans towards her, "We can make this look like an accident."

She narrows her eyes, searching him for deceit. Finding nothing but honesty, she nods slowly, "Okay. I notice you said spell. Can't we just curse her? Would that not be more effective?"

He smiles at her compliance, "Not this time, dearie. True love's kiss can break any curse and Miss Swan has true love flowing through her veins. Her curse would be broken before the pirate could even leave her memory."

"The pirate? Hook?"

"Oh yes," he says absently, "They are quite in love."

Regina rolls her eyes in disgust, "Tell me this plan."

..:::..

The heels of her shoes click on the decking of the Jolly Roger as she makes her way to the door of his cabin. Her hair has just barely dried from her shower and it tickles the back of her neck as a cool breeze hits it. Shivers run down her spine and she reaches a hand up to warm her skin. But another figure grasps it instead, the rough hand lacing fingers with hers as he stands behind her, "Emma."

And his voice sends her trembling but she remains facing away from him, just letting his presence wash over her. She can't remember all the reasons for not seeing him sooner. She just knows that this is right. This is where she wants to be. Doubts have no place in her mind right now.

"Killian. I-I'm sorry…"

He hushes her, "It's okay, princess. I had known it would happen since the day we met."

She frowns. He's misunderstanding her, "No, I want to be here," she squeezes his fingers, "I've just been busy."

Stepping in closer, he guides her hand down until he is able to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her into him, his breath now tickling her ear, "It would seem more to me as though you were avoiding me."

She turns to face him then, letting his arm fall to her lower back as she raises her hands to his cheeks, eyes roaming across his features before settling on the curve of his lips. He catches on before she makes the move, leaning in and capturing her lips in the first kiss they've shared in a week.

She finds herself relaxing into it, craving it, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulls her more tightly against him. He is possessive, marking her with his mouth, reminding her why she should never let him go. She moans as his lips leave hers and make their way down the line of her jaw and finally to the shell of her ear where he whispers, "I'll only stop if you ask me to."

She shakes her head, "Don't you dare."

The grin on his face is felt, more than seen, against her neck as he nips at her skin, her eyes closing, a sigh of pleasure escaping her. It's all the encouragement he needs, his hand reaching behind her to open the door leading down to his sleeping quarters.

And they step through together.

"Love, I really hope you have no sentimental attachment to these clothes because a week really is too long without seeing you and I may just have to be dishonourable tonight."

She smiles, removing her coat to keep separate from the soon to be tattered clothing on her body. If she has to walk home in the daylight hours tomorrow, she'd rather have something to cover herself up with, "No attachment at all."

A flicker of something dangerous crosses his face before he raises his hook to the top of her blouse and pulls down in a swift motion. Buttons scatter on the wooden floors as she gasps, the cool air hitting her torso. He peels the soft cotton from her skin, focussing on her bra, a small corset it seems, "Gods, Emma," he loops his hook through the front of her bra and tugs her forward, devouring her lips again, his free hand raising to brush over her newly exposed flesh.

She reaches behind her back, unhooking her bra herself when she realises how little practice the pirate would have had. Hook's hand grazes over one of her nipples and she moans into his mouth, taking that moment to push his jacket off his shoulders. She's still not totally used to seeing him without his pirate leather on, but the black of his t-shirt stretches across his chest in a way that defines his muscular physique and she finds that this world's clothing is something she could get used to seeing him in.

Her hands grasp at his hook as his mouth descends on her breasts, twisting the appendage free of its holding. He quirks an eyebrow as he looks up from her chest, speaking against her skin, "And what are you to do with that, lass?"

She winks as him, drawing him back up to her level, pressing the tip of the hook against the thin material of his shirt, "I want to play too."

He swallows as he watches her drag the tip of the hook down his chest, tearing his shirt clean off his body. Her eyes never leave his as she looks up at him, a dare in her expression. They're even now, they know how to wield that hook to undress the other. But that's not what this is about.

The sound of the metal hook hitting the floor is lost in the frenzy they encompass themselves in then. Bare chests pressing up against each other, her arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him ever closer to her as she kicks off her shoes.

He reaches between them, undoing both his own and her pants with a quick movement, stepping out of the confines of his jeans and helping her hurriedly push hers down the lengths of her legs, along with her underwear before leaning into her, walking her backwards slightly towards the bed, this time, the challenge lurking in his eyes. Despite it all, they're both still trying to best each other.

"You are stunning," he whispers on a breath, his hand tracing untamed patterns all over her sensitive skin.

When they near the bed, she catches on, pulling away from him momentarily to look at him honestly, "I'm not good at…relationships." She traces a hand down his body, coming to rest on his hard length as his continues to light her skin on fire, the heat pulsing between them. He hisses as she slides her fingers along him once, twice, "I push people away, but I promise I wasn't avoiding you."

Her hand continues to move against him, his head dropping back in pleasure, a smile gracing his features, "Fine moment you choose to talk about this, love."

She presses a row of kisses to his neck as she come to whisper in his ear, "I can read a room."

He chuckles darkly, grabbing her wrist, stilling her, "Bed. Now."

And she knows she has succeeded in making him believe her. Her balance falters as he looms over her, her legs hitting the mattress and bending as she falls backwards. He follows, hovering above her, his hand running up her side as he dips his head to taste her collar bone, his tongue wanting every part of her, "Gorgeous," he whispers, "Just gorgeous."

She wraps her arms around his neck once more, dragging that talented mouth of his back up to hers, kissing him slowly as she feels his arousal stroking against her heated centre. She bucks her hips up into his, their soft moans filling the air around them before he reaches between them, guiding himself into her with a long thrust. He stills within her, allowing her body to become used to him, running his thumb along her sensitive bundle of nerves as she begins to move her hips slowly.

Taking the hint, he pulls out of her before driving into her with a long stroke and she lets out a cry, her hands grasping at his hips, trying the draw him further into her, "More."

He presses his thumb more surely against her, circling her sensitivity as her hips try to move faster against him. But he stills her with his other arm, "Too fast." And she knows that he's closer than she is right now. The thought stirs something deep within her, a kind of disbelief that she is doing this with a pirate, but not only that, that he could be so gentle and generous.

So she stops and waits for him to move, and when he does, she can't help the words that fall from her lips. Soft curses and his name tumbling from her in a rush, "Don't stop, Killian," she breathes. His thumb playing against her like she's a precious musical instrument and the heat of his length thrusting into her in perfect synchronisation.

"Couldn't if I tried."

That makes her smile and she wishes she had come to see him earlier in the week. She hates that she's already missed out on seven days of this bliss. He releases her hips from the hold of his arm and she twists slightly, changing their angle as he moans at the new way her body is covering his.

Bracing on his arm, he leans in to capture her lips, mumbling words of love between each kiss, which slowly become unintelligible as his thrusts become more and more frantic.

She can feel her climax building within her and somehow, without ever having done this with him before, she knows that he is close as well. Wrapping her legs around him, allowing his thrusts to deepen she kisses him roughly, her body already seeking ways to make this exceptional, to make it theirs and theirs alone. It's a combination of his stroke inside of her and outside of her that pushes her over the edge and his lips swallow her cry as she comes apart under his ministrations. He breaks away from her, burying his face in her neck as she feels his body tense on a final thrust, following hers into overdrive. Her body trembles with the feel of him pulsing into her and it takes her a moment to realise that he had been biting down on her neck to muffle his own cries. He releases her skin, soothing it quickly with soft kisses as her legs fall limply from his waist and he rolls off her, pulling her to his side and draping a blanket over their still flushed bodies.

"Wow," he whispers, not wanting to disturb the calm air that seems to have settled over them in the afterglow.

"Yeah, wow," she responds, smiling up at him, resting a hand against his chest as she feels the effects of her exertion catching up with her.

He presses a kiss against her forehead, not even offering her the option of staying or leaving; he knows that she belongs by his side tonight. "Goodnight, love." They'll have a chance to talk about everything else tomorrow.

..:::..

Rumpelstiltskin walks through his empty shop, locking up after a long day. He throws a look over his shoulder at the plant sitting behind the counter, a rare and delicate fruit budding on its branches.

The plan will commence tomorrow, he decides.

..:::..


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey shipmates! Wow! So many people following my little tale! Thank you guys! Remember to leave a review so I know if I'm doing right by you! :) _

_This one is a little longer than most chapters I post. But I'm going away for a few days for a fandom weekend, so I won't be able to post for a little while. Hopefully this gets you by until then! _

_Come hit me up on Tumblr (wonder24) and Twitter (tadpole24_) and we can talk Captain Swan goodness :)_

..:::..

The Spark and the Void

Chapter Two

..:::..

Regina paces back and forth, running each scenario through her mind, "So she eats the fruit, we have control on her, correct?"

From behind her, Gold nods, knowing full well that she can't see him but also knowing that she's only asking questions to hear her own answers.

She stops at the counter, watching him tend to the plant, "And we get it to her through Snow?"

He nods again.

"They'll suspect something."

"No dearie, they won't," he carefully plucks the delicate purple fruit from the small tree. It's about the size of an apple and holds a magical glow to it. Rumple holds the plump fruit up and squeezes it until it becomes dried and slowly begins to crumble into a waiting bowl, "If there is one thing our Mary Margaret always makes for her daughter, it's hot chocolate with cinnamon." Rumple runs his hands across the dried fruit, turning it to dust before sprinkling a portion into a waiting cinnamon shaker.

"And the spell will only work on Emma?"

He nods, "Yes." He seals the lid, waving a hand over the contents to ensure the fruit's dust blends in with the spice before throwing it into thin air, watching it disappear in a puff of black smoke, his magic guiding it back to the pantry it had come from. "All we must do is wait."

They turn their attention to the branches of the fruit tree looking for the glow that will indicate that they are in control of the saviour.

..:::..

Emma's body feels tingly and she rolls over in the morning light to find her pirate watching her curiously, "What?"

He smiles, swooping down and capturing her lips in a searing kiss, brushing her hair from her face and pulling her close to him as they listen to the sound of rain beating down on the wooden decks of the ship, "You're still here."

She smiles, slightly dazed from his touch, "Of course I am. I told you I _want_ to be here."

He's still cradling her face, looking at her in awe, "Excuse an old pirate for having his doubts. And you did sleepwalk a touch through the night. I really did think you were leaving me"

"I did?"

He smiles, "You were a right mess, pacing and muttering about how you would never be able to find a better lover than I so you were stuck with me forever."

She swats his shoulder, but smiles, "Well that must definitely have been a dream."

"You wound me, Swan," he says, clutching his chest, "You really did wander though."

She shrugs, "I do that sometimes. Ever since I was little." She kind of loses herself in memories for a moment, but shakes herself out of it, leaning in to give him another peck on the lips, before rolling away from him, taking the blankets with her as she stands, "I have to get going." She begins collecting her clothing from the ground, leaving ripped shreds of particular items where they are as a kind of souvenir for him.

He pouts, actually pouts, at the prospect of her leaving, but stands to help her anyway, "Come back later?" She accepts her coat from his hand, appreciating the confidence with which he is just standing there, stark naked. He has every reason to be as well; in the daylight she is able to take him in without shadows and darkness getting in her way and she finds herself chewing her lip, contemplating never leaving here again. But she knows she has to.

Pulling her coat over her barely covered torso, she reaches an arm around his back to draw him in, "I'll try my best." And with a smile and a wave, she makes her way from the cabin before she ends up naked beneath him again, pulling her hood over her head against the cold rain outside.

"I love you," he calls out. It's not about hearing it back, it's about just letting her know. He could go the rest of his life without ever hearing it from her, but she must know how he feels. However, her face turns in the rain and he sees a grin plastered on her features. She ducks her head and turns back to her walk, but that smile tells him things she doesn't even know yet. She's not just tolerating him, she has feelings for him as well. And that gives him all the hope in the world.

..:::..

"And where were you last night?" It's amazing how despite them hardly having a physical age difference, Emma can feel completely mothered by Mary Margaret.

The blonde pulls the hood from her head and begins to unbutton her coat before remembering how little she's wearing underneath. Her eyes widen and she goes to make an escape upstairs to the bathroom to ready herself for the day, "Nowhere."

Mary Margaret smiles knowingly at her retreating back, "And how is our favourite pirate?"

She turns at the top of the stairs, rolling her eyes. There's no point hiding it, "He's great," she says before continuing onto the bathroom.

It's as she's washing her hair that she hears the distinct ringing of her phone. She figures they can wait a few minutes and continues with her shower, however when the phone immediately starts ringing again, she begins to feel that nagging sensation in her belly usually associated with the responsibilities of being sheriff. She completes the rinse in a hurry before reaching a wet hand out the door to grasp the device, "Hello?"

"Emma, hey. You don't think you could come down to the beanstalks, could you? I have a situation."

The voice of her father and the nature of the message he is giving actually calms her somewhat. There have been a few of these 'situations' at the site of the magic beans in the last week. Apparently a few of the dwarves weren't impressed with Anton giving away one of the precious beans so easily to a pirate and had tried to have him fired from his job. What they didn't realise was that it was more than a mere job to Anton. This was his family's legacy and so it had all blown up and was obviously continuing to cause a rift in the workers.

Knowing exactly what needs to be done to calm the whole thing down, she agrees to meet David there in twenty minutes.

It takes her less than ten before she is walking back out the front door, passing Mary Margaret on the way, "I made you a hot cocoa."

Emma smiles, looking longingly at the warm beverage. It's been a while since she's had anything to eat or drink, "When I get back, okay? I shouldn't be too long, just another fight at the beanstalks."

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes, "When are they going to learn?" She takes a swipe of cream and cinnamon from the top of her own mug, before adding, "I'm heading into the school today, so I'll hold you to it tonight."

..:::..

It's not long before she has Leroy locked up in the holding cell of the Sheriff's station, "This is just until you calm down and can assure me you're not going to hurt Anton," she says, locking the door.

The dwarf leans heavily on the bars, making pleading eyes at her, "Come on, sister. Every moment I'm in here is a moment I'm not working and that's a moment further from us being able to go home."

She looks over her shoulder, "You should have thought of that before you tried to barrel over Anton."

He sits down with a sigh, grumbling about the injustice of it all. A dwarf taking on a giant and _he's_ the one in a jail cell.

Emma can't help but let a laugh escape her as she leaves the station, dialling Neal's number on the way out.

"Yes I got him to school on time and yes he ate breakfast."

She can practically hear the eye roll through the phone, "I was actually calling to make sure you got everything moved it alright yesterday, I have a dwarf who needs a timeout if you need help."

"Oh!" He sounds genuinely surprised, "Yeah, no. We got it all in, but thanks."

She stops just outside the station, sensing something off in his tone, "What's going on, Neal?" Henry is first and foremost in her mind and if he's done something that's going to hurt him…

"Tamara's leaving."

"Huh?" She can't help the abrupt nature of her tone.

"She's freaked out by…everything. She wants out of Storybrooke and out of whatever might be between us."

That takes her by surprise, "There's nothing between us."

"Oh thanks, Em."

She rolls her eyes, "You know what I mean." A pause, then, "I'm sorry she's leaving Neal."

He sighs, "Yeah, me too."

She had previously been heading towards Granny's which is right on the way to Neal's new apartment, so she makes a decision to just keep going, "You need some food? Something to distract you? I'm going to drop by."

"You really don't have to…"

But she's already ordering as she hangs up on him, making the choice before he can argue.

..:::..

"These are the best sandwiches in America," he comments, taking another bite of the gourmet bread roll from Granny's, "Thanks for coming by."

Emma leans back in the couch, her stomach full, "It's a slow day. May as well spend it with a friend."

He smiles at that, "So we're good, yeah?"

She shrugs, "Yeah, we're good." There was a point in her life where she would have been mad at him for suggesting they were 'good', but now having seen him with Henry and knowing how hard he is trying, she finds herself at peace with what happened all those years ago.

They let silence encompass them for a moment or two, digesting the ease with which they seem to have fallen into this friendship, "I've missed this, you know? I missed you."

Emma smiles sadly at him, recognising immediately where this conversation is going and stopping it before it can get there, "Don't do this, okay?" At his confused look, she continues, "Losing Tamara is going to be difficult, but you are here because of Henry, that's all." She had missed him as well. Even in the part of her life when she hated him, she had missed him. But that part of her life was over now. Sometimes things end to make way for bigger and better things; she is a big believer in that.

He nods, "I know. I just…"

"You're feeling nostalgic, I get it. It's fine." She rocks on the couch, pushing herself up, deciding that now might be a good time to leave, "You can pick up Henry from school this afternoon, you shouldn't be alone tonight."

He stands with her, wrapping his arms around her in a friendly hug, "Thank you for being so understanding. I know none of this has been easy on you."

She accepts his hug, snaking her arms back around him, "We're all dealing with a lot. It's the least I can offer." She pulls away, thanking him for having lunch with her and then makes her way towards the door.

From across town Killian is trying to convince himself that he wasn't spying on her, he had only been people watching from a distance and his eye glass had just caught her figure through a window as she had been walking into Neal's apartment building. But seeing her hug her ex-lover so intimately was playing on his mind now, definitely. He lowers his looking glass and hangs his head, the doubts fill his mind once more despite the hope he had felt just hours ago. He feels this desperate need to show her what she means to him, to make her understand that she is important to him. To claim her and to never let her go.

..:::..

"Hot chocolate?"

Emma nods, though her mother notices that she's not completely in the room with her, "What's up?" she asks as she pulls the milk from the fridge.

The blonde shakes her head, coming back to herself with a put on smile, "Nothing."

But Mary Margaret doesn't miss the way her eyes glance towards the door, "Expecting someone?"

She shakes her head, "No."

It's at this point the Snow literally groans, rolling her eyes and reaching across the bench to grab Emma's hands in hers, "Emma, I know you're still getting used to this, we all are. But you need to talk to me. Before the curse was broken we spoke about everything and I know that now I'm your mother and that's… unusual, but it doesn't change the fact that for your first year of living here we were friends. So please, what's wrong?"

She can feel only love in her mother's words and knows she should talk to _someone_ about it, "It's Hook," and her father really does have impeccable timing because just as she lets the name out, David comes walking around the corner, his eyes narrowed.

"Hook?" Snow whacks his shoulder, giving Emma an encouraging look.

She fights the urge to say _'yes dad'_ as sarcastically as possible, because actually calling him dad freaks her out, but she does give him an expert roll of the eyes, grimly smiling at him, "I was supposed to go see him again today."

David's eyebrows rise this time, "Again?" but Mary Margaret places her hands on his shoulders and turns him towards the couch.

"You knew this was happening, Charming. Now go sit down before you hurt yourself."

The prince does as he's told, allowing the ladies to continue their discussion, "So why aren't you going to see him then?"

Emma shrugs, still not really sure herself, "There's just been a few things he's said that make me feel like this is going too fast and I don't know if I'm ready."

Mary Margaret turns back to the stove to continue heating their milk for the hot chocolates, "Remember what I said when you were going through this with Graham though? Your walls are high and deep, Emma." Her tone holds a warning.

"Yeah, but look what happened to Graham," it still sends ripples of pain through her to think about the man who was her first hope in years and how he had died in her arms, on the verge of something so unknown and so precious, "What if something happens to Killian now because he's with me?"

Snow's eyes flick towards her husband who has made his way to their bedroom to escape the girl talk in the kitchen, "Sometimes the chance is worth it."

She adds the cocoa to the warmed milk and begins to stir it in just as there is a knock at the door. Sensing who it could be, Snow turns the heat to low on the stove top, making a quick exit to her bedroom as well. She has no desire to make her daughter feel any more awkward than she already does around her and with any luck, after a few words shared in private they'll be able to enjoy their drinks soon enough anyway.

Emma pulls the door open and is faced with a devious looking Hook. His leather is once again in place on his body and that combined with the glint in his eye sends a shockwave of heat rushing through her. His chest is heaving and it looks as though he's been running, but she barely gets a chance to process his appearance before he is pushing his way inside her apartment and then pushing her up against the door as it slams shut. He doesn't speak, just presses his lips into hers, surrounding her with the heat of his body, consuming her with his harsh kisses. She lets out a moan as he finds his way to her jaw line and the curve of her neck and his hand comes up to rest over her mouth, his lips barely grazing her ear as his hot breath carries a whisper, "Where are your parents?"

And she feels like a teenager, sneaking around in her family's home. It feels dangerous and exciting. Unable to speak, her eyes slide towards her parent's bedroom and Killian nods, "Well you'll just have to keep quiet then, won't you?"

Her eyes widen as the curve of his hook runs up the inside of her thigh, pushing the seam of her jeans into her core. She bites down on his hand and he lets out a sharp growl, pulling it away, "I only have one good one left, lass."

She shoots him a wily grin, "Better put it to good use then."

And then he is all over her again, his hand slipping up under her shirt and across the curve of her breast as he whispers words of possession against her skin. She feels positively on fire, her own hands working their way past the leather and straps and buttons and finally touching the warm skin of his chest, moving his clothing to the sides, but not removing it. Not yet. She's enjoying the way he looks completely undone under her fingertips.

"You're mine," he growls into her ear, his hook pressing suggestively into her again making her bite her lip to keep from making too much noise.

Something niggles at the edges of her memory though, something important. But she's so wrapped up in Killian that it takes the clearing of her mother's throat to remember that there was a pot on the stove and realise that its contents are now all over the floor.

The pirate breaks away, but remains standing in front of her, protecting her modesty or his own, she isn't sure. For her part, Emma's eyes can only widen as she looks over Killian's shoulder to see Mary Margaret bending down to mop up the spilt milk, "I'll just…I can't let it stick. I'll be gone in a second though," she calls out, her voice an octave higher than usual.

Emma laughs then, because it really is amazing how many awkward experiences she's been able to have with her parents despite not knowing them for the first 28 years of her life, "It's okay. Put another pot on, I said I'd have a drink with you and I will."

Killian throws a mortified look at her, but she just shoves his shoulder. Lowering her voice, she says, "It'll be fine. What are they gonna do?"

He quickly does up enough buttons and straps to make him look presentable before leaning in close to Emma once more, "This isn't over."

She nods, before slipping back over to the kitchen to help Mary Margaret, "I would hope not."

..:::..

To say they're having a happy family moment would be a huge overstatement. Emma and Snow sip on their hot chocolates while David asks Hook increasingly personal questions.

"So, just _how_ old are you anyway?"

"Do you have tattoos with _other_ names?"

And the dreaded, "What _exactly_ are your intentions with my daughter?"

It's at that point that Emma grabs Killian's hand and tugs him from the couch announcing that they're going to bed. In the same room. Together.

She makes a pointed effort to ensure David knows that he can't just do this type of thing. He being her father only gets him so many outs and tonight he's definitely used them all up.

"Thanks for the hot chocolate, Mary Margaret," Emma throws over her shoulder as she and Hook make their way upstairs to her room.

David immediately turns to his wife, "We can't let this go on."

But Snow just smiles a sad smile, "We missed those years, David. We missed being the commanding parents, the ones who got to teach her things and be wary of the princes that came to try and whisk her away to far off kingdoms."

"What about pirates though, Snow? Don't we get a say in that? She doesn't know how dangerous they are in our land."

She shrugs, picking up the mugs from the table and walking them to the kitchen sink, David following behind, "She met Hook in our land. I really do think there's some good in him. I think we need to give him a chance."

David still feels unsure about the whole thing. He's not quite used to the dad instincts yet. Some parents feel like their kids grow up so fast, but for him, he had literally held his daughter in his arms when she was a baby and the next time he saw her she was 28 and completely grown up. He aches for the moments he missed.

"I can give him one chance."

Snow wraps her arms around her husband, leaning up and into him for a sweet kiss, "Thank you."

And as the occupants of the apartment all find their way to their rooms and fall asleep, Rumpelstiltskin is awoken by a purple glow coming from the soil of his fruit tree. A smile spreads itself across his face and he waves a hand in the air, ensuring the spell has indeed connected to Emma.

From miles away, he feels the tug of the magic as the spell begins to work and laughs a high pitched laugh, so pleased with his efforts. With Emma gone Hook will follow anywhere and that gets rid of him without drawing a single suspicion towards themselves. With a flick of his wrist, Rumple wakes Emma up, the woman gasping and swinging her legs off the bed, unbeknownst to her that she is under a truly terrible spell.

..:::..


	3. Chapter 3

_OMG shipmates, _

_It's been a week! I am so sorry it's taken that long to get this to you. I've been crazy busy with work and obsessing over TV shows; my muse just wouldn't quit on the New Girl ideas bandwagon. So you can blame that show for a lack of update ;) Hehe. But I hope the wait was worth it with this one! Please review and also come play on Tumblr (wonder24). _

..:::..

The Spark and the Void

Chapter Three

..:::..

She feels strange. Her hands are tingly and her feet seem weighted. She can feel her mind stumbling over a dream that's already been lost, but her mind is foggy still, as though she's coming through a haze. Placing one foot in front of the other, she makes her way to the bathroom, washing her hands for no reason and then brushing her teeth.

If she wasn't so aware of herself right now and the fact that she most definitely is awake, she would think she was merely sleepwalking. These are the types of things she's done before; getting ready for the day before the day has begun. Her mind is a battlefield at the moment though, with one side screaming at her that something is wrong and that she should be asleep in bed, but the opposing side is happy for her to continue what she's doing, telling her that it is the most normal thing in the world.

It's when she finds herself at the staircase that she feels the panic really start to set in. Her heart rate picks up, stuttering in her chest as she clutches the banister, afraid of what is happening but at the same time feeling completely able to stop it. Except that she can't.

And that confuses her, sending her further into a panic.

She opens her mouth, tries to call out, but only the thoughts pass through her mind, the words never escaping her. Eyes wide with terror, her foot steps forward, her body powerless to stop it. She's teetering on the edge.

But with a move that seems completely normal, she gently places one foot in front of the other until she is at the third from bottom stair. Her body sort of halts abruptly and she's not sure what to do next. It's as though she's awaiting instructions. She tells her legs to move, but they're cemented to the spot and then she feels it, the slow weighted tipping of her body.

Forwards and down.

This is bad. This is so bad.

She begs her body to wake up now. She doesn't want to fall, doesn't want to lose control of her herself. She doesn't know what's happening and her heart won't stop pounding in her ears so that she can just _think_.

But she already knows it's too late as her feet slip out from under her and the ground moves towards her at a frighteningly quick pace despite the feeling of slow motion that has descended over the entire scene. She wants to reach out her hands to brace her fall, but her body won't even allow her that simple luxury and she hits the ground with a thud, her head coming down particularly hard sending stars spinning behind her eyelids.

She lays there, head turned towards the front door, unable to move a muscle and feels an odd sensation run through her body. Starting at the base of her spine and working its way upward, a cool shiver leeches its way into her still shocked system.

And then she sees it, a sort of silvery glow lifting away from her in smoky tendrils. She can hear whispers of a past gone by in the silver light, moments of a life she knows she's lived. Or has she? There's a boy named Henry; he seems important. And a pirate…Captain Hook…from a story she read when she was a child, of course. So many fairytales. Prince Charming being so protective of her, Pinocchio coming back for her, the Huntsman loving her. She can't grasp hold of it all; it's too much. The memories seem like something she knows from another life, but they're disappearing like a dream in the morning, leaving her cold and broken on this unfamiliar floor.

By the time she watches the last of the glowing light slip under the door and away from her she can't even recall that she had ever seen it. Her eyes slip shut, a feeling of overwhelming tiredness consuming her and she sleeps the deepest, dreamless sleep right there on the floor of the place she doesn't know that she can't even remember.

..:::..

Rumpelstiltskin waves his hand through the air, collecting the silver smoke as it billows into his room. The whispers surround him in a kind of tornado, which he tames, circling the memories into a manageable stream, guiding them to the fruitless tree that is sitting at his bedside.

The glow sits atop the soil for a moment, gradually seeping in and becoming food for the tree, its lifeless limbs already beginning to look more alive.

He smiles callously as he watches the process, knowing very well that within six months this plant will bear fruit once more and when that time comes all he need do is destroy it to take Emma's memories permanently from her. She will be taken from this world of magic and continue to live her uninteresting existence in blissful ignorance of the possibilities right under her nose. Her pirate lover will follow her to the ends of the universe, oh he knows that as a fact, and he will be gone from his life forever, fulfilling Regina's wishes as well.

As the light in his room dims, he lets sleep overcome him once more, satisfied that this is another deal he can call complete.

..:::..

Hook wakes up to a heavy thud. Confused and in unfamiliar surroundings, his immediate instinct is the wake Emma up and ask her to help him figure it out. But his hand reaches out to an empty bed. Warm, but empty. So she can't be far.

He sits up and glances around the room. It's still dark outside, but he can see the hint of yellow on the horizon suggesting it is near the morn.

"Emma," he tries softly calling out, hoping she is just in the bathroom or perhaps on one of her sleepwalking adventures nearby. When she doesn't answer, he feels the panic begin to rise in his chest. The sound he woke up to was not pleasant and he hoped more than anything that it wasn't her who had fallen.

He tentatively steps out of the bed, walking towards the door. This house is foreign to him and he's still unsure if he's welcome by the royal family to even be here. The last thing he wants to do is to wake everybody up over something as trivial as his imagination getting away from him.

The door opens quietly, thank goodness, and Killian finds his way to the staircase Emma had lead him up earlier in the night. He comes to a halt, clutching the bannister as he looks down and sees Emma's lifeless body lying on the floorboards, her hair fanned out around her head as though she's some kind of angel. He hopes so much that she hasn't joined those heavenly figures.

Not caring about the noise he makes now, he cries out, "Emma," hoping to stir her as his feet take him downstairs, clumsily almost tripping his way down until his is by her side.

He leans down, hook running across her forehead, moving her hair out of the way, and he sees it. A solid bruise already forming on the side of her skull, "Oh Emma." He rolls her over, trying to understand why she isn't moving, but the metal of his hook mists over when he holds it by her mouth, so at the very least she is still breathing.

A sigh of relief escapes him as he continues to try and rouse her. His efforts are only rewarded by Snow and Charming joining him at the base of the stairs. Whatever issues they may have had with the pirate before disappear when they see the concern in his eyes, "She sleepwalks…" Hook offers as an explanation and Mary Margaret nods in agreement.

"She never usually leaves her room."

But Killian shakes his head, "She was on my ship the last time it happened. She might have been disoriented, might have followed the space of my vessel rather than her usual path."

David's already on the phone, but as he waits for an operator to pick up, he whispers, "It doesn't matter how she got here. We need to get her to the hospital."

Hook nods and begins to lift the princess off the ground, but he feels a warm hand on his, Snow's, "It's okay. Here we have people to do the lifting for us."

And he should know that. He's seen the vehicles associate with the hospital, he's been in one, he's seen Henry taken away in one, but his mind is a confused mess at the moment and he just wants to be doing something. Snow's hand lowers to wrap around his, "She's tough, you know. She's had bumps on the head before."

He tries to manage a smile, completely amazed that Emma's mother is even giving him the time of day, "I know. This land has just been so unkind to her, it seems unfair that she keeps taking these beatings."

Snow's eyes are sad and he can tell that she's barely keeping it together, the reminder that this world has been horrid to her daughter doing nothing to stem the anger at herself that she is feeling, "I know it's just a trip down some stairs, but it's somehow worse that it is something that can't be avenged. And that probably makes me a terrible person, just wanting revenge, but…"

"No," Hook says gently, "It makes you a terrific mother." And he means it. She can tell.

"Ambulance is five minutes away, let's prepare a bag for her." He's already halfway up the stairs when Mary Margaret begins to follow, telling Hook to stay with Emma, ensuring that she is not left alone.

..:::..

He's not sure how long they've been waiting. The walls of this place are far too white and a constant reminder of the last time he was here. Chained to a bed and in constant fear that the Crocodile was going to seek him out, he hadn't slept for three days straight until he had found out that the Dark One had left town. That information had been a beacon of hope, a little ray of light, until later that same day he'd overheard a woman with blonde hair and a small child explaining it was her fault Emma had to go with Rumpelstiltskin too. That she had owed him a favour because of her.

It hadn't even been a thought then. It was just action.

If anybody had anything to say about a villainous pirate checking himself out of hospital, they certainly didn't say it to his face as he had merely walked out the doors, hoping never to return to this clinical place again.

There's no heart here. No kindness. Everybody has a duty to perform and then they move on with their day. To them, Emma is just a minute blip on their busy schedule.

His eyes dart around, trying to locate the doctor who had spoken to them earlier about tests they needed to run. He had no idea what kinds of things they had been doing to her, but he knows he needs to see her soon. His heart races slightly in his chest; this world is so fast paced and detached and he's still not used to it completely. He loves the simplicity of his ship, the smooth pace of the ocean, the glide and the flow. He misses fixing an injury with his own two hands, bracing his arm against a wooden post to stitch the mangled pieces together, tending to the wounds of his long lost crew. He knows that if he could just see Emma, he could help her. He could fix her.

But nobody is telling him anything.

David approaches him, asking if he'd like something to drink and he's only half joking when he replies with rum. To his shock though, the prince returns with a paper cup filled with the spiced alcohol, giving him a tight smile, "I told Whale that if he was treating my daughter tonight he was not going to be needing his stash."

Hook nods, accepting the cup, knowing how much it is costing David to remain civil with him, "Thank you."

Some more time passes and soon the sun is high in the sky, indicating the middle of the day. It's then that Whale returns to them, an optimistic look on his face, "Good news." And there's a collective sigh of relief around the room, "She's sleeping still, but there appears to be no lasting damage. She regained consciousness a few times during testing, but fell back asleep before we could get much out of her. But apart from keeping ice on that bruise, she'll be okay to go home today."

David pulls Mary Margaret against his side, holding his wife close, while Hook steps forward, "May we be taken to her?"

Whale nods, leading them down a hallway, then spotting Ruby at the other end of the walkway waiting for him, he leaves them, "Room 403. Any complications, you get the nurses to page me."

The three collectively nod, stepping into the small hospital room. Hook reaches her bedside first, reaching out to brush a hand along her cheekbone, leaning in to kiss her cheek softly, "Oh Emma."

Mary Margaret picks up the icepack from beside the bed and holds it against her daughter's forehead, hoping to relieve some of the swelling.

The cool from the pack begins to rouse her from her sleep though and Snow quickly places it back on the table, taking Emma's hand instead. They're hearts all beat fast as they watch her eyelids flutter open and take in the setting around her. And when she speaks, it's all they can do to not jump up and down in jubilation, "Where am I?"

Hook takes the lead, beginning too answer, "You're in the hospital…"

"Wait," she cuts him off, pulling her hand from Snow's and frowning at the others in the room, "Who are you?"

..:::..

_*ducks* will try have the next chapter up sooner than I got this one up!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey shipmates…_

_So something big has happened since last update…we've had a finale! And what a good one it was! Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did and you've all made it out alive :)_

_Thank you again for your patience with me getting chapters up!_

_I want to apologise if I haven't replied to your review! I've been a bit slack these last 2 chapters, but I'll be better for this one! And I really do appreciate your reviews! So a giant sweeping thank you!_

_x_

..:::..

The Spark and the Void

Chapter Four

..:::..

"What do you mean this was always a possibility? You said everything looked fine!"

They're standing in Dr Whale's office, a scan of Emma's brain in front of them, "I know, David. And it is fine. Everything in her scans is perfectly normal. She should not be suffering from any kind of amnesia."

"Can you fix it?" Hook asks, looking at the scan in marvel. The things they are able to do in this realm still astonish him.

The doctor chews on a fingernail before pointing at the image of Emma's brain, "There's nothing _to_ fix. There is physically nothing wrong with her." He shakes his head, still baffled by what he's seeing, "We'll take her down for another scan and determine what to do once we get those results back. I'm so sorry."

He exits the room swiftly, obviously feeling the tension rising and not wanting to be there when it overspills.

It's David who punches a wall first and it takes a moment for Hook to really grasp why Emma's parents are so angry with the whole situation. Sure, he's upset too, but not angry. Then he remembers the 28 years of guilt that stand before them every time they look at their daughter. The lost years of memories they can never have. They're only just starting to rebuild their life around themselves and now she can't seem to remember any of it.

None of it is made any better by Henry entering the room, Neal right behind him.

"What's going on?"

"Where is she?"

"Where's my mom?"

The questions start pouring from their mouths before anyone has a chance to gather their thoughts. They had called Neal soon after Emma had woken up, asking him to bring his son to the hospital. No one knows how to break the news to him, but it is Hook who steps up, "Your mother took a fall last night, lad. She's hit her head and is having a bit of trouble remembering who we all are."

Henry's eyes widen, "No. She's come so far. She can't not remember."

"I'm sorry, boy."

Neal places a hand on Henry's shoulder, almost possessively, pulling him slightly away from Hook, "Can we see her?"

The pirate doesn't miss the gesture and knows it's because of his own past with the Lost Boy. He had hurt Neal as a child and he simply doesn't want the same fate to befall his own son. He respectfully takes a step away from Henry, allowing Neal his son, "Of course. She's just having some more portraits taken of her brain, but she'll be back in her room soon."

Neal doesn't ask, but Mary Margaret offers, "MRI," at the confusion on his face, "Her room's the 3rd on the left; Whale said she could have visitors after, but," she hesitates, "It's hard. It's really, really hard."

Despite the wary look in Neal's eyes, Henry tugs on his arm, pulling him towards the room. Hook watches with a sadness weighing on him. He feels heart broken by Emma not recognising him. He can't imagine how that young boy is going to feel.

..:::..

Regina holds the small plant in both her hands, just marvelling at it, "So this holds all her memories?"

Rumple smiles, proud of himself, "Yes it does."

"And no one knows magic is involved at all?"

"Not even a little."

She turns the plant in her hands, trying to see it from every angle, "Why can't we destroy it now?"

Gold takes the plant from her hands then, placing it on the counter. It is very important that she hears this or their entire plan could unravel, "The memories are still viable at this point, dearie. If we were to destroy the plant now, the magic holding Emma's past here would be destroyed as well." He demonstrates his point by holding his hand over the soil and lifting soft tendrils of silver from its depths.

Regina's hand reaches out, she can't explain the draw to it but she wants to hold the light, she can't seem to stop herself. Whispers of the saviour's past in Storybrooke swirl around them, whispers of secrets that beg to be known by the creator of the curse and the one who initiated it…

But before Regina can let her fingers curl around the smoky stream, Rumple allows the memories to fall back into the soil, the haze around them breaking instantly as the silver melts gently back below the surface. The Evil Queen snaps her hand back as though she had been burnt, "What was that?"

"That," Gold begins pointedly, "is the result of uncontained memories trying to find their way back to a body. We must wait until they are incarcerated within the fruit of this tree and then we may destroy them."

Regina nods, her fingertips still tingling with the anticipation of being control of those memories, "How long must we wait?"

"Six months."

Her eyes widen, "That long?"

He can't contain a smirk at her impatience, "This kind of magic is always going to be slower than a curse. But it will eliminate any trail back to us."

She reluctantly nods, "Okay, well I'll keep it safe in my vault until it's ready."

But Rumple already has a possessive hand on the small pot that contains all the memories, "I think it best that it remains in my care, dearie."

She's not impressed with that idea, that much is evident, but she goes along with it, still as much that shy young girl who needed his help to get rid of her mother as she is a strong queen.

..:::..

Emma tries to scramble her way out of her bed when she sees Neal approaching her, "No! You bastard, you get away from me." Her voice is wild and her eyes are angry, "You left me to rot in a jail cell. What makes you think I would want to see you?"

In his wildest dreams he hadn't imagined that she would remember him. Everyone else has been a blur to her, so he hadn't thought about how far back her memory loss might be. It's entirely the reason he finds himself pushing Henry behind him, not wanting the boy to hear about his parents' past like this.

Emma doesn't miss the move though, "Who's that?"

Neal doesn't know what to do and stands there frozen, eyes wide and mouth open, ready to say something but not knowing what. It's taken out of his hands though, as Henry steps out from behind his father, walking towards Emma's bed, "Mom. It's me."

There's a flicker of something in her eyes. Recognition, maybe. But it's gone as fast as it had flitted across her face. Instead tears spring to her eyes, because she knows she _could_ have a little boy about this age and it seems like they had reconciled in her other life, the life she can't remember, "I'm so sorry, kid," she whispers.

But Henry doesn't back down. He takes another few tentative steps forward and reaches out to hold his mother's hand.

She doesn't flinch away, but he does feel her tense, "It's okay. I got you to believe once before, I can do it again."

She smiles softly at this child, _her_ child, "What's your name?"

"It's Henry."

"Henry," she repeats, squeezing his hand, "Henry, it is lovely to meet you."

She feels this overwhelming wave of emotion hit her and she knows that despite everything, this boy is important. Her eyes flick back up to Neal who is standing by the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face, "You and I. Are we?"

She doesn't have to finish the sentence, he knows what she wants, "No. You're with…" he pauses; fairytale names are not going to fly with her so 'Captain Hook' is out of the question, "Someone else," he settles on.

Emma blinks, "Oh, right. The man with all the leather, he said something." She looks back at Henry and then back to Neal, "Why him?"

He almost laughs, "I ask myself the same question all the time. But you are happy, Emma. You are very happy."

Her eyes are red rimmed from tears, "I don't feel happy."

Henry reaches up to brush a tear from his mother's cheek and her eyes close at the touch. The last time she had seen this little boy he had been only minutes old. The nurses in the prison infirmary had allowed her thirty seconds to hold him in her arms, to kiss his tiny forehead and whisper goodbye. He had been whisked away from her and she had been so alone. And now here he stands before her, comforting her with a simple touch. She had wished for this the moment only last night as she had blown out the candle on her birthday cupcake. She had wished to not be alone.

A gasp escapes her as she pulls away from Henry's hand, "I remember something."

Henry's eyes light up and he leans eagerly into his mother's space awaiting the announcement, "What is it?"

"Last night was my 28th birthday!" She exclaims, obviously proud of herself for remembering.

The excitement is short lived as she notices the other two faces in the room turn towards one another.

"What?" she asks, "What is it?"

Neal steps forwards then, offering some support to Henry as he absorbs the information. She is so close to being able to remember him. A matter of seconds in fact. But she can't remember the knock on her door, she can't remember this child who had come back into her life and completely changed it all. All she can remember is blowing out the candle on her cake and then everything is blank.

She can see something is affecting the father and son in her room, but they still haven't answered, so she asks one last time, "Come on, what has happened?"

Henry is the one who finally answers her, his heart pounding in his chest, willing his mother to remember before he says anything, "You're 29 now, mom."

..:::..

The rest of the day passes by in a blur for Emma. She's lost a year of her life and she doesn't know how to get it back. He mind hurts and her heart aches, but finally they all leave her alone and she can do the one thing she remembers how to do – sleep.

She curls against her pillow, staring straight ahead at the empty room for a moment before shutting her eyes against the tears that are already threatening to fall despite her crying her eyes out earlier in the day.

There are many sounds in this hospital that keep her in a constant state of wakefulness, but eventually she hears something that comforts her, the shuffle and slide of shoes coming into her room. She cracks an eye just open enough to gauge who her late night visitor is and is surprised to see the man they call a pirate taking a seat just feet from her bed.

He has this certain warmth about him and is just dripping with protection. She feels safe and secure here. And so far from lonely.

Knowing he is there, she feels her eyelids close comfortably, allowing her to sleep soundly.

..:::..


	5. Chapter 5

_First off, I want to apologise for the lateness of this chapter. I won't go into details, but life has been a little rough this week; however writing is definitely helping it all :) I love you all dearly and want to thank you all for reading and reviewing (especially those I can't respond to personally). Hopefully updates will be back to their regular schedule from here on out._

_As always, I would love to see you on Tumblr (wonder24) and Twitter (tadpole24_). The hiatus is already hurting and I'd love to chat to all you Captain Swanners about our gorgeous ship :)_

..:::..

The Spark and the Void

Chapter Five

..:::..

She dreams of him, the dark pirate. She dreams about running away on a ship with him, wind in her hair as they sail, not on oceans, but in the sky. On golden seas of sunshine and white fluffy clouds, his ship carries them towards a destination they may never arrive at. But she is completely content with that. Content to travel to far off lands with this man she can't remember ever knowing, content to never return.

She wakes up to an empty room and her heart sinks. She really thought the pirate man would be here. Or that _anyone_ would be here actually. She sits up slowly, happy to feel her head is no longer spinning when she moves, but also frustrated that she can't seem to remember the names of the people who brought her to the hospital. Knowing they're important and actually being able to recognise them seem to be concepts with a great distance between them at the moment.

She swings her legs over the side of the bed, leaning forward to pick up the bag that has been left on the table beside her. The familiar brown leather is comforting in this world of everything new. She slides the zipper open, spying a purse sitting on the top. Her hands touch a few papers and a photograph before something jumps out at her as recognisable. Her license photo is the one she remembers being taken only a year prior, but there is a sticker on the back saying that she's changed address.

Storybrooke.

_Really?_

Her fingers slip across the plastic as she commits the address to memory. The next thing she comes across are a set of keys. It makes her inexplicably happy to know her yellow bug has made its way to Maine with her. Despite its connections with her past and her ex, she cherishes that little car. At the thought of Neal her fingers wander to her chest, expecting to feel the pendant she usually carries there. A reminder that there isn't a person in this world she can count on but herself. However, she finds the weight of the swan charm is no longer around her neck.

Her other necklace is there, so if they had removed it for the MRI, they would have put it back on her. But it simply isn't there. She frowns as she runs her fingers back and forth across the empty space on her chest, pondering the meaning of it. She had always worn it as a reminder to never trust someone again, but perhaps she had found that one person out there who could be trusted. Maybe there was hope in all this fog surrounding her. Her thoughts take her back to the night before and how the man they call a pirate had sat with her through her slumber. Could he be the reason she had learnt to trust again? Could that have really happened?

Her hand slips from her chest as she hears footsteps behind her. She turns on the bed, facing her new visitors, "Hi Emma," the woman says. _Mary Margaret_, Emma reminds herself, _her name is Mary Margaret_.

She tentatively waves, "Morning."

David steps forwards then, "It's good to see you up." His eyes wander to the bag sitting on her bed and she knows right away what he wants to know.

"It feels good to be doing something to try and get my memories back."

Mary Margaret bows her head slightly, happy to hear that their daughter is trying but also disappointed that her memories haven't come back to her yet, "Is there anything familiar there?"

Emma holds up her keys, "I know these," she says, smiling softly, "And I found this picture in my purse."

David reaches out to grasp the photograph. He recognises it immediately as the night after Emma and Mary Margaret had returned from the Enchanted Forest. They were all gathered at Granny's, smiles planted on their faces, not really looking at the camera, but at each other. The four of them. Emma, Mary Margaret, Henry and himself. He feels a lump form in the back of his throat and passes the picture to his wife, letting her see what has him so quiet, "It was a beautiful night."

They hear a sniffle and look up to see tears welling in Emma's eyes, "I just wish I knew what was going on." She can feel such a strong connection to these people, she knows they are important, but her mind just can't quite reach out to hold onto them.

Across town, under the guise of a closed shop, Gold softly settles the growing plant beneath a glass case, the silvery light of memories trying to escape beginning to concern him. He had known that this was a risk from the start. Emma being the product of true love isn't something that allows her memories to be taken easily. The connection between her body and those missing parts of her mind is still ridiculously strong and the two parts of the puzzle will constantly pull towards each other, trying to find their other half. But he hadn't imagined it would be this difficult or require so much strength.

He presses sweaty palms against the glass case, willing the memories to sink back into the soil, reminding himself that it will only be a matter of time before she is further away and the connection is stretched to the point that it won't be a concern to him.

..:::..

Waking up to having Henry in the apartment is something he knows he could really get used to. Neal has this drive in him to be a good father, whether it be from his own experiences as a child or the way Henry has only been introduced to him in the last few months and he really wants to do his best to make up for lost time. So when he comes into the kitchen in the morning to a very subdued Henry, his immediate reaction is to try and work out exactly what is wrong.

"Hey buddy, no cartoons this morning?"

His son looks up from his bowl of barely touched cereal, "What happened between you and my mom?" he asks straight up.

The confusing thing is that it's not a straight answer he can give, "A lot of things happened. What would you like to know?"

Henry's eyes flicker back towards his breakfast, looking for an escape and Neal can tell he's panicking, that he's worried he's asked something forbidden, "Hey, hey, it's okay to ask. I just," he pauses, taking a breath, "I just want to be sure I'm giving you the right information at the moment. I don't want this to be harder than it already is."

"She lied to me about who you were. She said it was to protect me, but yesterday…she was so angry at you. I've never seen her like that. So I guess I just wanted to know why she needed to protect me from you."

Neal bows his head. He had hoped he would get a chance to show Henry how much of a different person he was before these questions came about. He had hoped he could escape his past, run from it. But he knows he has to face it. That's what being a father is about. Hell, that's what being a good human being is about.

He sighs, raising his head again and looking carefully at his son, "I ran away when she needed me. I was asked to leave by someone and though I could have stayed and figured out a different way around things, I left. And your mother, she went to jail for my crime." He contemplates going into details but thinks that he has given Henry enough for now, "And if that's the last thing she remembers of me, then I don't blame her for hating me, because kid, I hate myself for it every day."

Henry nods, accepting the answer it would seem, "Thank you for being honest." He pushes himself away from the breakfast bar, spinning on his seat and jumping to the ground, "Okay, first thing's first, we need a codename."

Neal frowns, confused for a second. It was that simple? He knew honesty would get him far with the kid, but he knows he has done wrong by his mother in the past and that usually doesn't sit well with him.

Henry notices his father's hesitation and answers his silent question, "I have more questions, but right now I have to think of mom's memories first. So, codename?"

He blinks a couple of times, still absorbing the maturity of his son, "Um, how about something like Operation Elephant. You know, because they never forget and we're trying to recover memories?"

"I don't know," Henry says, shaking his head, "It's supposed to be something secret so no one will know what we're up to. I think Operation Bumblebee is better."

Neal laughs, amazed that this boy is his son and that he gets to do this with him, that he gets the chance to be a dad. He brushes a hand across Henry's hair, trying to smooth out some of the messiness it holds, "Okay, Operation Bumblebee it is."

..:::..

It's a little before lunch when Mary Margaret and David leave Emma's room. They walk in silence up until they reach the outer perimeter of the hospital before David can't take it any longer, "What are you thinking?"

His wife's head snaps up. She hadn't realised that she'd been so lost in thought, "Does everything seem _right_ to you?"

"What do you mean?"

She scrunches up her face in a frustrated sort of pout, "That's what I've been thinking about. And I just don't know. Something about Emma's whole memory loss seems off."

David's arm wraps around her shoulders as they walk, pulling her into his side, "What's happened is logical though. It couldn't be something else, could it?"

She shrugs, "Stranger things have happened in this town."

He cottons on to what she is suggesting almost immediately, removing his arm from her shoulders, he reaches down to take her hand, "Do you want to pay a visit to Gold?"

She nods, "I think it would be best."

..:::..

When Killian enters the hospital room later that afternoon, he finds himself greeted by Emma bumping straight into him, "Oh, sorry," she murmurs, almost pressing past him before she realises who he is, "Oh, it's you."

"Aye," his eyes slide down to the clipboard she's holding in her hands, "What have you got there, lass?"

She turns the papers to face him, "Checkout forms. The doctor cleared me to leave."

He smiles, "I'm sure everyone is excited by the news." His eyes scan the empty room behind her, "No one here to assure you get home?"

She averts her gaze, "No one really knows I'm getting out."

He tilts his head in question at her, but before he can voice his concerns, she mutters an "excuse me," squeezes past him and makes her way to the nurse's station to hand over her paperwork.

He steps into her room, spotting the bag they had packed for her two nights ago sitting on the bed. Her keys are out and so is a map. He picks up the folded paper, studying it carefully. He is adept at reading keys and codes to acquire buried treasure, but this complicated mess of names and roads confuses him.

The paper is ripped from his hands before he can really understand what is going on and Emma's face appears before him, looking slightly pissed off, but also a little bit amused at his obvious level of comfort in going through her things.

He holds up his hand and hook in surrender, "What's Boston?"

She looks at him curiously and he realises it's probably the first time since her fall that she's really been able to take him all in. Hook and all. He drops his arms, nodding at her, encouraging her to answer him, "The place I'm heading for a little while." It's not until the words leave her mouth that she realises it was weird that he had to ask in the first place.

"You're not staying?" he can't help the panic that leaks into his voice.

"Dr Whale told me to surround myself with familiar things and right now, familiar is Boston," she refuses to look him in the eye as she continues packing things into her brown bag.

"I think you'll find that surrounding yourself with people here would be of more benefit to your recovery, love." His heart is speaking for him at this point and he doesn't care. If she can hear the desperation in his voice, then good. He wants her to stay.

She whips around then, "I don't _know _anything here though. I know my place in Boston and I know my job there. I know how to be alone there."

And it breaks his heart to hear her like this, the way she was when he had first met her. Barely open enough to the idea of magic, let alone understanding everything she was capable of. She had been alone her whole life, eyes of an orphan calling out to him with heart crushing familiarity. He had recognised her hurt, her pain. But she had let him in past those barriers and walls and while he was still chipping away at them, she had begun to chip away at his. They had come too far to lose it all to a freak accident that had robbed him of her, "You don't have to be alone here, Emma."

Her eyes soften and she reaches out to touch his cheek, her palm ticklish against the scruff of his beard, "I don't know how to do that yet." She picks up her bag from the bed and brushes past him as she walks out the door.

He runs after her, catching up to her as she packs her things into her car just a few streets down from the hospital, "Emma." His voice is barely above a whisper, but she hears it still and turns around, streaks from tears running down her face clearly visible for the world to see, "Oh Emma."

A buzzing a beeping sounds from her pocket and she reaches down to pull out her cell phone, answering the call with a soft, "Hello?"

She nods after a moment and hands the little black box to Killian. He holds it to his ear experimentally and mimics Emma, "Hello."

"Hook, we're at Gold's. He's not here, but we think there might be something going on with him and Emma's memories."

He frowns, a little bit confused about how he can be hearing Mary Margaret's voice through this contraption, but mostly concerned about the possibility of the involvement of magic, "We'll find him then."

His eyes don't waver from Emma's as he speaks and he lowers the phone before he can hear any more about the Crocodile trying to take his love away from him again. "Emma, please stay," he tries once more.

She reaches out and curls his fingers more solidly around the phone, "You keep this, okay?" And with that she turns away from him and walks to the car door. Stopping momentarily, she looks over her shoulder, "I just need some time to get everything right in my head."

He nods. This is the Emma he climbed the beanstalk with, the one who couldn't trust him enough, the one who left him chained in a giant's lair because she was afraid.

He grips the phone tighter in his hand and silently promises himself that he will get through her walls again. He has to.

..:::..


	6. Chapter 6

_Another long wait between chapters and I apologise! Someone needs to kick me off Tumblr, because despite having crazy busy weeks I seem to find enough time to reblog everything in sight on there and not write. Oops ;)_

_Thank you for those of you who have reviewed! And thank you to those who are reading :) Hope you're all continuing to enjoy the story._

..:::..

The Spark and the Void

Chapter Six

..:::..

She knows she had been away a year, so she didn't expect her old place to still be there and ready for her to live in, but within a week she has herself set up in a little one bedroom apartment situated above a 24 hour mini-mart. It's not ideal, but the thrum of the city that she has called home for the last couple of years welcomes her and she loves it.

Falling back into her routine of work and not much else comes naturally to her and while she had found a Sheriff's badge in her belongings, she can't imagine being anything other than a bail bonds person.

Yes, slipping back into life in Boston is easy for her.

Except that sometimes, late at night, when she's trying to catch a few hours sleep and her room is lit up like the day from all the city lights, she feels a yearning for something she doesn't know. She wants a bed in a quiet apartment that overlooks the docks of a town she can't even remember. She wants to curl up in the arms of a man who smells of leather and salt. She wants her mother to rub her back and hand her cocoa with cinnamon and tell her everything is going to be alright.

She shakes her head. No. These are just dreams from her childhood. She doesn't have a mother. This is her life. This is what is right.

..:::..

"Henry, it's time for school," Regina's voice carries up the stairs to her son's bedroom, "Come on, we need to go now."

The sound of his footsteps makes her smile. It's the first time he's stayed with her in… well, she doesn't even know how long. With Emma out of town, Neal has been handling most of the parenting duties, with Snow and David helping out when they can. But when the circumstances had shifted, Regina had been their port of call.

She turns around, "Have you got everything?"

Henry holds up his backpack in one hand and shoes in the other. "Yep," he says simply.

Regina frowns at his demeanour. He's usually bursting with stories and smiles, but this morning he just seems a little flat. She finishes fixing her earrings and bends down to his level, placing her hands on his shoulders, "Hey, I know it's been hard lately, but we'll get through it."

He nods, but she can tell he isn't buying into what she is saying. She feels a niggling guilt settle in the pit of her stomach at what she knows has been done. But as she drops Henry off at the gates of his school, watching him run towards his friends, she reminds herself that this is what she wanted. This is the reason all of this has to happen. She loves having her son to herself; everything in Storybrooke is just as it should be.

Still, that uneasy feeling sticks around and she realises that she hasn't seen or heard from Gold in the last week. Resolving to check in on him on her lunch break she turns away from the school and plants a fake smile on her face, carrying herself as though her happy ending is truly happening.

..:::..

"I have missed this, you know?"

Hook smiles at Neal as they roll up some lose ropes and tidy up the deck. They'd taken the opportunity that morning to head out on the ocean and give the Jolly Roger a bit of a sail as she'd been sitting in the docks with no attention being paid to her for a little longer than Hook liked to admit.

"Aye lad. You were always a pirate at heart."

Neal places his coil of rope over a hook on the side of the ship, taking a seat at the helm, "I used to wonder what it could have been like if I'd stuck it out with you."

The pirate bows his head, "You couldn't have liked me very much. I was a different man then, bent on revenge and malice."

"But for a while you were family."

Hook takes a seat next to his former crewmate, "And you were mine, boy."

They sit in silence for a moment, the gentle sound of water lapping at the sides of the ship keeping them company before Neal speaks, "I'm happy that you've changed. You and Emma, you guys are good for each other, but you couldn't have been back in Neverland."

A dark chuckle escapes Hook, "I only wish she would remember me now."

"She will," Neal says with conviction.

"I fear that," the pirate pauses, gathering his thoughts, "I fear that she will fall in love with her old life and forget her new life forever." He fiddles nervously with his hook, "I fear it for her family and of course she is of great importance to this town, however I rather selfishly fear it for me most of all."

Neal nods, "I know. And if I had my time again I would never listen to the words of another person about why I'm no good for her. So I'm going to give you the advice I never got." He looks up, making sure Hook is listening, "Go after her. If she's going to fall in love with her old life back in Boston, you make sure you're a part of that old life."

..:::..

Henry's eyes scan the playground as everyone scatters across the swings and grass, eating their lunch and running around without a care in the world. He unzips his backpack and pulls out his book, opening it to near the very end. There are so many stories in this book, so many people's lives all laid out from beginning to end. There are tales of long, long ago and then there are stories from more recent times, the time of Henry's grandparents, Snow White and Charming.

But nowhere in those pages lays the answer to the only question he's got right now. How does he make his mother remember him? How can he break her curse when there's no curse to be seen?

He feels someone sit down beside him, but remains immersed in his book until a small hand reaches across him and tilts the old pages toward her, "Hey Henry," she says sweetly as her eyes slide across the words on the paper, reading the story of Pinocchio.

He glances up at his new company, "Hey Grace."

When he doesn't offer up much in the way of conversation, Grace gently closes the book and asks, "How come you won't come play with us anymore?" she nods her head towards the swings where a few of Henry's classmates are playing.

"It just doesn't feel right."

Grace tilts her head, "You know, my dad told me that when I was cursed and he wasn't he never gave up hope, just like you're doing."

Henry frowns, "How do you…"

She smiles, "We all know about your mom, Henry. Just don't go mad like my dad did."

His frown deepens, "I'm only eleven. I'm not going to go mad, I just miss her."

"Maybe talk to my dad about it."

Henry nods and Grace hops up again, running back towards the swings.

He doesn't go back to reading his book but instead begins to plan just how he's going to get to Jefferson's without any of his family noticing.

Operation Bumblebee is all systems go.

..:::..

She finds it bizarre that his shop is closed and the door is locked in the middle of the day, but it is Gold and he does hold all the eccentricities of his fairytale persona, Rumple. Still, that feeling in the back of her mind tells her that something is wrong.

Making deals with Gold always has a consequence and she worries that he has done something to implicate her as the culprit of Emma's memory loss. With that in mind, she makes the calculated decision to break into the shop.

She knows the back door will be less conspicuous, so she quietly ventures there, her hand reaching out to test the handle. Surprisingly she finds it unlocked and steps inside, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. "Hello," she tries.

A muffled groan can be heard from the front of the shop, her feet carrying her out to the counter quickly.

The sight that greets her is not one that she can say she expected. Gold his lying on the ground, an arm outstretched upward, facing a glass unit which contains the plant that holds Emma's memories.

"Gold," she breathes, rushing forwards to help him to his feet.

But he shakes his head, "No," he rasps, "Have to contain the memories."

Her eyes look up and even as she has begun to shift Gold, the silvery light has grown, "I thought it would be easier once she was gone."

Gold's hand shakes with the effort he is exerting, "I thought as much too. But alas, we were wrong."

She sees an opportunity in this, one that she can take or leave. She sees a chance to let the memories go. They'd never be caught; Emma would be back in their lives, but she'd have the chance at building a life with Henry free of lies. Her hands slacken their grip on Gold and she begins to step away.

But then she remembers the way she felt having Henry all to herself, the way she didn't have to worry about someone taking him away from her. She remembers having the sound of his laughter filling the empty hallways of their home, the patter of his footsteps running around the upper level, constantly tripping over and leaving his shoes everywhere. She can't let that go, she won't.

"What do I need to do?" she asks quietly, her hesitation shining through in her tone.

Gold throws a worried look at her, but she schools her features before he can see the doubts still swimming in her eyes, "Hold your palms against the glass, feel it. But don't let it settle, let it move within you, but don't become accustomed to it."

Regina's fingertips touch the glass and she gasps at the heat radiating from it. Remaining strong though, she presses further against it, letting her whole hand come into contact with the case.

"That's it," Gold prompts, already feeling the strain on him lessen.

"Now what?" she asks, her eyes closing as she feels the heat from the memories course through her veins, invading her cells and becoming a part of her.

"Force them away. Just push them down." His entire body is weakened and tired, but he knows how hard this job is by one's self, so he helps Regina, straining and sweating as the silver light finally begins to sink beneath the soil again.

They remain locked in their stance, bodies focussed on the task at hand, for a good few minutes until finally, the light disappears completely and the two fall back, gasping for air.

Gold's head is spinning and sore his fingers are blistered from the heat of the magic it has taken to keep the memories under control.

They stare in silence for the longest time at the fruitless plant, neither one of them willing to speak for fear of having to discuss the very clear flaw in their plan. Pulling the memories from the product of true love was simple, but containing them is becoming quite the task.

One that might just prove too hard to accomplish.

..:::..

Killian lazily hooks a leg over the side of his hammock, swinging from side to side. The sun is setting outside and he's contemplating the conversation he and Neal had had earlier in the day. Going to Emma seems like the logical choice right now, but he also knows that something is afoot here in the magical realm of things and he wants to be here to be sure there is a family for Emma to come home to when she inevitably recovers her memories.

Because he's not giving up on her remembering.

He won't.

He and Emma had only spent a night here alone, but his bed looks empty without her and he doesn't know if he can make his way to it without the prospect of her golden hair strewn across his pillows, her smiling eyes lighting up the room. He lets his eyes slide shut for a moment, but it's only seconds later that a shrill beeping emanates from the other end of the cabin.

He had asked David about the small black box Emma had given him and had since learned of its magical powers. Mary Margaret and David had ensured it had power at every second of every day in the hopes that Emma would contact them.

His feet find the ground, shakily running towards the contraption, picking it up and holding it to his ear just as he had been shown, "Hello, Emma, hello."

Her breath comes through from the other end, a short and sharp gasp. He wonders if he's done something wrong.

"Hello?" he tries again.

"Killian?" her voice is unsure and quiet, but it is there and he feels his heart beat harder than it has all week.

"Aye lass."

There's silence for a moment, then, "I'm not even sure why I'm calling. I'm just…I don't even know you."

"But you do, love. You know me very well."

Her breathing thickens, as though she's swallowing a lump in her throat, trying not to let tears overtake her, "I don't remember."

He doesn't know what to say to that, because there is obviously some part of her crying out to him, something within her reminding her of their time together.

"I miss you and I don't even know you," she whispers and he knows she's crying now.

"Emma, I…"

But she cuts him off, "I'm sorry to do this to you. I'm sorry I'm putting you through this. I'm sorry."

"No, lass. I would prefer…"

But the answering sound of the engaged signal greets him as her voice swims away.

He hadn't realised it, but his heart is nearly beating out of his chest and it physically hurts him to know that she's in pain. The involvement of magic be damned, he is not prepared to leave her alone any longer.

As the dark descends around Storybrooke, the pirate prepares himself for the journey to Boston.

..:::..


End file.
